


the art of defenestration

by Evekle



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Crack, Defenestration, Gen, window jumping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29391450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evekle/pseuds/Evekle
Summary: A montage of musketeers and their loving relationship with windows.
Relationships: Aramis | René d'Herblay & d'Artagnan & Athos | Comte de la Fère & Porthos du Vallon, Constance Bonacieux & de Tréville
Comments: 10
Kudos: 13





	the art of defenestration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [A_Confused_Kitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Confused_Kitten/gifts), [RedWillows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedWillows/gifts), [rthecynic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rthecynic/gifts), [privateerwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/privateerwrites/gifts).



Everyone knew the musketeers for their swordsmanship as well as their marksmanship. However, Aramis wonders if anyone else is aware of the obsession of jumping out of windows or throwing people out windows for that matter. 

At this point, it’s starting to become a running theme. 

* * *

1.

D’Artagnan shows up to a murder scene with the murder weapon in his hands. No really, his brain is barely processing anything this early in the morning. The moment everyone starts yelling murder, his stomach drops. 

The door slams behind him. He looks back down at the dagger. 

There’s so much blood. 

All d’Artagnan can hear is the pounding of feet. Closer and closer. 

He doesn’t have an exit. 

Then the idea hits him. Windows are  _ technically  _ doors! Without much to think twice, he sprints. Outside the sun beckons with the familiar warmth. 

Taking a breath, d’Artagnan sprints, breaking through the very blinds into pieces. 

The ground welcomes him with a sharp spike of pain through both of his legs. And he thinks he just broke something. 

Everything is perfectly fine. 

* * *

2.

Aramis doesn’t understand why the Cardinal needs to come here  _ now _ . The weather is quite fine outside, the sunlight gleaming through the curtains of the room. 

“You have to get out of here,” Adele tells him with urgency in her voice. 

This is going to be fun. 

(No it’s not.) 

He cracks the door open, the voices getting louder and louder. Aramis stares back at Adele who only tilts her head to the window. The tell is obvious and he loves her for it. 

“Is there another way out?” he asks anyways. 

She shakes her head. 

“There’s only the window.” 

The window it is then. Aramis believes it won’t be that bad, after all, what floor were they on? Third or fourth, he believes. 

Then he looks down. 

“Do you know how far down that is?” 

The footsteps are getting closer, louder and louder. He needs to get out  _ now _ . 

It’s how the others find him and Aramis just sighs. One of these days, the window will be what kills him. 

* * *

3.

The moment the glass shatters, Porthos’ stomach drops. Aramis is cast aside like a ragdoll, nothing more than a flick. Part of him feels his heart cracking in the seams, just the very glass pieces. 

Maybe if he were faster- 

It takes every fiber of his being to hold himself back, resist the urge to throttle the very people around him. Gravity however does not bend to their wills. 

Porthos can only clutch his fists, hard enough that he’s sure that his knuckles are turning white. 

All he can pray is that Aramis will be alright. Athos’ expressionless face tells him enough without any words to be said. Instead, he settles on telling himself that Aramis will be fine. It takes more than a simple fall to kill a musketeer. 

(It’s not much but it’s mostly for himself.) 

* * *




Athos can only stare through the window right behind where the hanging is going to happen. They don’t have  _ time  _ to wait. Aramis gestures at the window vaguely as Porthos nods. 

No. 

Absolutely not. 

The bell chimes and the d’Artagnan is brought into the gallows. He bites his tongue. The lad  _ really  _ had to insult a red guard’s outfit before proceeding to throw the man out the window. Athos doesn’t know if he should have expectations anymore. 

On the next chime, he decides that they’ve waited enough. The windows shatter into pieces like the ice on a river. 

All Athos can hope is that this is worth it. 

“That’s quite a way to make an entrance,” d’Artagnan quips as they land around him. 

The smile is the brightest thing he has seen all day. Porthos and Aramis both laugh even as the guards scowl. 

Maybe windows are a viable exit, Athos decides. 

* * *




The window is becoming a very tempting exit, Constance admits. She gestures quickly at the panes of the blinds. He sighs. 

“You do know everyone in this regiment has a thing for jumping out windows right?” Treville mutters. 

“I heard it was fun,” she responds with a grin. Maybe she’ll finally understand the thrill. 

The next shot she fires hits a man in the chest. They can’t hold them back forever. 

The Captain scowls, cutting someone down before looking between the window and the door. There is no way they can get there, plus they’re only a floor up. 

Constance thinks she can get used to this. 

“Let’s go!” she calls back to Treville who grimaces. 

Maybe they need a window jumping instructor. 

Together, they leap from the windowside to the ground. For a moment, the very air holds her close, a hug as the earth comes closer and closer. The pain jolting through her legs the moment she lands but it’s fine. It doesn’t seem like she broke something. The people chasing them curse, scowling. 

She turns to Treville with a grin. 

“We should do that more often.” 

A beat. 

“Perhaps.”

* * *

+1 

It’s not like d’Artagnan hates Rochefort. Okay, maybe he hates the man a bit. What he can’t forgive is the man insulting his horse. 

“All your hats are ridiculous,” Rochefort mutters under his breath. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Aramis inhale with Athos throwing a glare. Porthos only shoots a dirty look over at Rochefort. If anything, it seems like the man isn’t aware of what he did. 

“I would advise you to hold your tongue,” Aramis quips. “We do have ways of shutting you up.” 

“Our previous attempts have proven that it’s quite effective.” 

Athos only tugs his scarf closer. Porthos glances between the two of them with a grin. 

“Which we suggest you take this threat seriously,” he chimes in. 

“Or what?” 

-

Rochefort doesn’t know what he did to deserve this. He never meant to run into the musketeers again. Maybe he did know that they disliked him. 

Even if they went to the same tavern for a drink, Rochefort isn’t sure as to what to think as they dangle him out the window. 

“What did I even do?” he hisses. These four are fools if they think this will stop him from achieving his plans- 

“You insulted my horse,” the youngest musketeer comments with a scoff. 

“And also insulted our hats,” Porthos adds in. 

“Which is a crime.” 

“And this is the only way to resolve this.” 

They throw him out the window. For a moment he’s flying and the next the ground meets his face. 

Rochefort gets a mouthful of dirt when he tries to get up from the ground. Delicious. 

  
  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely the enabler's chat's fault. It started off as a joke with everyone leaving by using windows that I had to write it into this. Really have no excuse for this, though you can definitely interpret it as the dirt fic sequel. 
> 
> To the discord peeps, I love you guys <33 
> 
> Yell with me about fandom on tumblr and discord!   
> Tumblr: Evekle   
> Discord: EliNLE #2838


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